


Love Me Dead

by OfficialMettaton



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emetophobia, M/M, Slow Burn, Zombie AU, assuming that i don't weenie out hurrhurr, eventual smut???? maybe?????, miscellaneous original characters - Freeform, survivor!roadhog, zombie!junkrat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-10-12 18:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10497297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialMettaton/pseuds/OfficialMettaton
Summary: After three long months of travelling and surviving on his own after a virus triggered a zombie apocalypse, Mako is saved by a rather interesting undead man with fiery orange eyes...





	1. Mutated

_Go tell Aunt Rhody,_

_Go tell Aunt Rhody,_

_Go tell Aunt Rhody_

_That everybody's dead_

 

It was the disgustingly familiar hungry snarling that woke Mako from his much needed sleep.

 

After wiping the gunky crust away from the corners of his eyes and blinking a couple of times, he sees, illuminated under a flickering outdoor light, the hollow and sunken face of a walking corpse peering at him through the cracks between the boards nailed to the window, its mouth hanging open unnaturally. Sitting up from his sleeping bag on the floor, Mako lets out a groan, nearly mimicking the corpse's own noises perfectly, and reaches for the nail gun that laid beside him. Noticing the movement in the abandoned motel room, the corpse starts to shove greedy shriveled hands through the window, clawing to get a hold of the mountainous tasty treat that was before it. Mako groggily stands to his feet, wincing at the aches bombarding his old bones and muscles, and holds the nail gun up to a spot where the corpse's forehead was exposed.

 

"Fuckin' shut _up_."

 

There's a KE-TAK as the makeshift weapon is fired, and the sound of flesh being pierced and a rotted brain being penetrated, along with the slump of a body hitting the ground, notifies Mako that he has successfully killed his first zombie for the day. He takes a moment to look at the watch on his left wrist, and lets out an exaggerated and heavy sigh.

 

15 minutes before 6 in the morning.

 

It's going to be a very long day.

  
\------

 

Mako's hungrily tearing away at his last breakfast bar as he's scanning over the map laid out on the floor beside him. With the red sharpie in his other hand, he puts an X over the name of the motel he's currently hiding out in, then connecting it using a dashed line to the previous X he made over the bank he had bunkered down in three days prior. Only 2 and a half miles of progress were made between then and now, with no long-term brakes in between. His eyes then scan over towards where he's made several fat circles over where the road splits off to exit on to the nearest highway going westward - his way out of this godforsaken shit hole of a city, and progression towards leaving the fucking country. He takes a moment to do a bit of calculation in his head.

 

There's still a little over 25 more miles to go.

 

That is, assuming the most direct route isn't clogged by fucking zombies, or massive piles of rubble that even him and his massive muscles wouldn't be able to move. Otherwise, it'd be almost 30 miles.

 

And that's just to get out of the city proper. Then it'd be hundreds of miles of desert before he could reach the shoreline.

 

"Christ…" Mako hisses, putting the sharpie down to run a hand over his face. It's times like these Mako begins to wonder what the fucking point is anymore. Why bother trying when he doesn't even know for sure if there's ever going to be an end to this? How does he know he isn't going to keel over and die from natural causes? He's almost fifty, for fuck's sake. As he allows himself to reflect more, he concludes that he'd much rather die from a stroke or heart attack than to be turned into one of _them_. It wasn't right, to be wandering this earth without a semblance of humanity left in you, to be left without a purpose other than to mindlessly shuffle around until someone shoots you between the eyes.

 

Mako wasn't going to let that happen. If he's to die, he's going to do so with a fight.

 

He just wished he wouldn't have to die alone…

 

When he goes to take another bite out of his dry and tasteless bar of food, Mako finds himself eating the wrapper. Another heavy sigh. The allotted time for his morning negative thoughts was over. Picking the sharpie back up, he begins scanning the map for the nearest supermarket. A content smile forms when he realizes there's one just a few blocks away.

 

Good. He wasn't in the mood for much walking today.

 

\--------

 

Getting to the supermarket wasn't as treacherous of a trek for the lone survivor as he thought it would be, especially since he was lucky enough to distract a relatively large group of zombies by pushing a stalled car into them. He didn't even have to waste using his nail gun, which was fortunate, given the fact that he only had 10 nails left to use in the chamber.

 

He's still not quite used to the stench of rotting corpses burning in the summer heat. Luckily, his gas mask, which was previously used for aesthetic purposes once upon a time, provides just enough filtering to prevent him from gagging and retching from the smell. He hates how it sticks to his skin from all the built up sweat and moisture, though. Aw, well. It's worth it in the long run, he supposes.

 

Mako has to use his shoulder to nudge the automatic doors of the supermarket open, kicking away some of the viscera of the poor souls who were most likely trampled to death in the panic that ensued the day the virus started to spread. To him, it seems like it happened a century ago, when in reality, it had only been three months.

 

Three miserable fucking months since he walked away from his burning apartment with only the clothes on his back, trying to survive from both humans and zombies alike as he made his way through the city's maze, collecting what he could, killing others as a means of defending himself.

 

He has to bring his attention back to the present when he hears some shuffling coming from where he'd left the automatic door open. The upper torso of a man cut clean in half is starting to crawl through the gap, hungrily staring at Mako with milk white eyes. The survivor nonchalantly walks back, punts the torso out from between the doors with his spiked leather boot, then closes the doors back up, exhaling like he had completed some dull chore.

 

In an attempt to normalize his current situation, Mako grabs a grocery cart, unslings his army green duffle bag from his tired shoulder, places it in the little baby seat, and proceeds to walk further into the store.

 

As expected, most of the good stuff has been cleaned off the shelves, leaving nothing but the dry, tasteless shit behind. Food is food, Mako reminds himself as he shoves a couple boxes of cereal and oatmeal into the cart. He continues to peruse the shelves, going from aisle to aisle, grabbing whatever he could. He counts his blessings when he finds one last package of apple juice boxes and a half-open box of cheesy crackers, which he immediately digs into.

 

After getting what he can from the grocery section, he starts making his way towards the hardware section to get some more nails for his nail gun, stopping only momentarily to grab a stuffed pig from the toy section and placing it happily upon his duffle bag. It always brings up his morale when he's able to find little treasures like these.

 

As he admires his new present, Mako begins to hear what sounds like fingernails clicking against the linoleum floor. At first, it sounds as if it's far off, like on the opposite side of the store. It stops, and there's a moment of silence. Then, it comes again, only it's growing closer towards Mako. Another pause of silence. For a split second, Mako can see some hunched figure standing in the very corner of his eyes on his right, but when he turns to get a better look, it disappears, and the clicking skitters off, then comes closer.

 

 Mako quickly grabs his nail gun from where it hung on his side, and holds it out, completely alert now. He abandons his cart as he begins to tiptoe towards the source of the clicking. Just as he rounds the corner, though, he only sees a blur as it dashes away from him.

 

…Wait…Away? Why is it running away from him?

 

Didn't matter. He's going to chase this thing down and kill it permanently before it could try and follow him back to the motel.

 

He follows the sound of its skittering towards the back of the store, and he swears he's right on top of it when he can hear its labored and shaky breathing. Suddenly, Mako realizes, he's not on top of it…

 

It was the other way around.

 

When he feels a hot drip of liquid fall on to the back of his neck, he looks directly above where he stood, and his fear is confirmed.

 

Above him, perched on top of an empty shelf with its razer sharp claws clutching on to it, is an emancipated, leathery looking creature looming over him, its sharp teeth exposed in a hungry, animalistic snarl, a tail made of bone wrapped around its crouched legs, and its pitch black eyes locked directly upon Mako.

 

"Oh, hell," the survivor curses before ducking out of the way of a large clawed swipe.

 

The mutated infected screeches with rage as it jumps off of its perch towards Mako, but falls short when it's shot in the arm by Mako's nail gun. The survivor curses at his poor aim as he tries to shoot the creature again. Unfortunately, mutated are much more clever and sharper sensed than their standard brethren, so this one is able to move its head just enough out of the way for the nail to graze whatever is left of its ears. The snarls intensify, and it begins to crawl closer to Mako.

 

Damnit. Only 8 nails left, and the new box of nails is sitting in his cart several aisles over. Better make these count.

 

KA-TAK. The nail hits the palm of the creature as it holds up its hand to block it.

 

KA-TAK. The nail strikes it in one of its eyes, making it screech horribly in pain, but not enough to pierce what mattered.

 

KA-TAK. The nail completely misses, and before Mako can react, his gun is knocked out of his hands and on to the floor, and he's pinned down, claws digging into his thick shoulder blades. No matter how hard he tries to struggle, despite how much more mass he has on the thing, the mutated overpowered him.

 

This is it. It didn't matter how many pieces were going to be left of him after this monster was through with him - one bite, and he'd turn.

 

Mako closes his eyes, ready yet unwilling to accept the fate he'd fought so hard to avoid. He at least hopes it's quick.

 

"Oi! Matty! Get off him, you dumb bastard!"

 

…A voice? From who? Mako opens his eyes back up to see who it belonged to, but from where he is on the ground, he can't see anything besides the monster sitting on his chest. The monster, however, can see, and is looking off behind where they were. It squints its eyes, and then lets out a very cat-like hiss towards the source.

 

"Don't you fuckin' sass me!" the voice calls out again. "I'm warnin' you! Get! Off!"

 

Whoever this mysterious guy is either has balls of goddamn steel, or isn't the brightest bulb out of the box. Either way, the voice's warning goes unheeded, and the monster on Mako's chest looks back at him, and begins to lower its head closer towards his neck.

 

"Alright, that's it!"

 

Mako hears the clacking of nails again, like something running at top speed, and he's worried a second mutated has joined the party.

 

And then that familiar blur Mako had seen earlier flies directly into the side of the mutated pinning the survivor. The strength of the impact sends the mutated flying into a shelf, knocking it over and creating a rather humorous domino effect of the other shelves behind it.

 

"Don't say I didn't warn you, mate!"

 

Now that Mako's free, he sits himself up, and gets a good look at whoever had just saved his ass.

 

His heart jumps to his throat.

 

It's another mutated that looks almost identical to the one that was attacking Mako a second ago, with its long claws and unnaturally sharp teeth, and an even longer boney tail sticking out from its rear. What's strange, though, is that its right leg is a metal peg leg, and its right arm is completely missing. Whereas the mutated knocked against the shelf is bald, the one standing next to Mako has patchy yet thick and wild blonde hair. When it turns to look at Mako, the most startling, and admittedly entrancing feature, he finds, are its eyes.

 

They were a vibrant and bright fiery orange.

 

Looking into those eyes, Mako can see something in this creature that he's never in any other walking corpse before.

 

Life.

 

Mako suddenly realizes that the thing is talking to him.

 

"I said, can you walk?!" it repeats, urgency in its voice.

 

Mako tries to formulate words, but finds himself unable to get anything out.

 

The blonde mutated rolls its eyes and says, "I'll take that as a 'no'." It then reaches for one of Mako's arms, who instinctively backs away from it. The blonde grumbles and says, "Look, Matty's right proper pissed - unless you're volunteering to be his lunch, we can't stick around here. I know a place where we can hide 'til he calms his arse down, but you gotta trust me!"

 

He can't believe this. He can't believe a mutated is actually having an intelligent conversation with him, let alone attempting to save his life.

 

Of course, Mako can't turn down the opportunity to live just a little longer, so he nods towards the blonde, who smiles wide at his response, revealing more of those sharp jagged and yellow teeth.

 

"Right, then! Heave, ho!"

 

With that, the blonde grabs Mako by the arm with its one good hand, and, with the same superhuman strength the other mutated demonstrated, it quickly drags the survivor across the floor, further back, and up to large metal door labeled "EMPLOYEES ONLY". The blonde drops Mako momentarily to open the door, then grabs him again to pull him inside, slams the door shut, and proceeds to lock it with a ring of keys it fished out from one of its cargo shorts pockets.

 

Mako's startled when he hears something slam against the window and begin to scratch at it. He sees it's 'Matty', angrily swiping and snarling, but having no success on busting his way through the thick pane of glass. The blonde stands in front of the window, between Mako and Matty, and then makes a 'V' shape with his good hand's middle and index finger, jerking it up and down.

 

"That's right, rack off, you prick!" the blonde yells out as Matty turns to skulk away in defeat. Mako uses the wall to shakily stand himself back up on his two feet, and hobbles closer towards the blonde mutated, who turns to face him, a smile reaching from ear to ear on its face. "Showed him, I did! Glad I got to you in time! Don't get visitors here often. Name's Jamison Fawkes, by the by, but you can call me Jaim--"

 

It was cut off immediately from a very swift and meaty right hook from Mako.


	2. Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako is shaken up for the second time today, and it's not even noon yet.

_I've got a gun in my hand, but that gun won't cock,_   
_My finger's on the trigger, but the trigger seems locked,_   
_And I can't stop starin' at the tick-tock-clock,_   
_And even if I could I would never give up._   
_With a vest on my chest, a bullet in my lung,_   
_I can't believe I'm dying with my song unsung,_   
_And if and when I die, won't you bury me alone?_   
_'Cuz I'll never get to heaven if I'm singing this song!_

 

 

 

"You bloody cunt! The fuck was _that_ for?!"

 

The mutated -- Jamison -- is now clutching its -- his -- broken nose, which is bent completely towards the right side of his face, stomping his one good foot repeatedly in frustration while his bizarre bone tail is tucked between his legs. Mako, meanwhile, is trying to catch his breath from everything that had transpired within the past minute, wheezing heavily into his gas mask. There was no way he was just rescued from the brink of death by something that shouldn't even be able to talk with him, let alone not want to chow down on his sweet juicy meat bits.

 

Yet there he was, watching the undead blonde that had brought him to temporary safety yank his massive beak of a nose back into place, albeit just a teeny bit off kilter in alignment. Unless, maybe, it was like that before…

 

"This how you thank everyone who saves your sorry arse?" Jamie mumbles as he pats the offended appendage.

 

Mako doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to answer. This is literally his first time speaking with anyone on a semi civil basis, and it's with a zombie. Jamie takes the hint, lifting an unusually bushy blonde eyebrow upwards.

 

"Oh, now I'm getting' the silent treatment, eh?" he says as he places a clawed hand on his concave hip, cocking it to the side slightly. "Boy, you must'a been a real treat at parties."

 

Now that they weren't being harassed by a pissed off and hungry mutated, Mako takes a moment to actually assess the undead man that saved his life.

 

There is absolutely no doubt that this man is indeed a zombie, and a specially mutated one at that, with his long boney tail wagging lazily back and forth being a dead giveaway (pun unintended). Most mutated zombies showed extensive physical differences between the more standard version of zombies, some more pronounced than others. Mako had seen ones like Jamie and Matty before, with their taught leathery skin and bone spurts that resembled tails, though he'd never dealt with one personally before today. There were others where the ears were elongated, meaning they had a much keener sense of picking up sound, and some that had abnormal twiggy arms dragging on the ground that could easily reach through impossible cracks and just pick someone apart.

 

The one constant with every zombie Mako had seen, though, whether standard or special, was that they always had the same milky white eyes that had a thousand yard stare, only ever conveying the animalistic and barbaric need to kill.

 

But this one…The one standing in front of him…Jamie…

 

He has the most stunning pair of vibrant orange eyes, a color that very much reminds Mako of the fire that engulfed his previous home, and they're looking directly at him.

 

Not with a hunger, but with curiosity and wonderment and surprise -- signs of genuine humanity.

 

They're an incredibly stark contrast from his greyish-purple discolored skin, and very pronounced from the sunken sockets they reside in.

 

Mako's so enraptured by those eyes that he fails to notice that Jamie is now standing very much within his personal space.

 

"Oi, can you even see me through this thing?"

 

When he feels the tap-tap-tapping of a claw against one of his mask's opaque lenses, Mako makes a knee-jerk reaction of swiping his arm to push the little shit away from him, but Jamie's heightened senses allows him to dodge this time, ducking at the right moment before bobbing his head back up to where Mako's chin was.

 

Fuck, this guy was tall if his head can reach that high.

 

"You really aren't gonna talk to me, are you, ya dickhead?"

 

Mako can't help but let out a snort at the rather adorable looking pout Jamie's making, what with his sharp teeth jutting out from the bottom in a comical and cartoonish fashion. Excited that he finally gets a reaction from Mako, Jamie smiles once again, throwing his good arm up in the air.

 

"Ah, there we go!" the zombie cries out gleefuly. "That's a start! Say, you got a name, big fella? Already told you mine - only fair you tell me yours, specially since, y'know..." He dramatically takes a moment to breathe out a puff of air on his claws, then rubs them against his chest and sniffs. "…I saved your life, and all…"

 

Although Jamie can't see it, the survivor rolls his eyes from behind his mask. He's already in this deep. Might as well just fucking take the plunge.

 

"Mako," he rumbles out, folding his arms across his chest as a means to look intimidating. Jamie all but whoops with laughter, cackling in an obnoxious manner.

 

"Ooh-ho-ho! Big fella with a big voice! I love it!" Jamie's smile suddenly turns mischievous as he points a claw at the larger man. "But you ain't so tough, are you, May-koh?"

 

"Almost punched your head clean off your shoulders," responds the lone survivor. There's a pause as the zombie recalls the hit that was inflicted upon him, wincing at the memory.

 

"…True," he concedes, "but I ain't talking about throwing punches, mate. I saw you daintily sipping that juicy box like it was a cuppa, and munching on those crackers like you was an ankle biter."

 

Mako can feel his ears turning a vicious crimson red from embarrassment. Jamie's devilish expression just gets worse when the survivor doesn't respond.

 

"Should I also mention the way you nuzzled nose-to-nose with that adorable pig plush? Lemme guess, pigs are your thing? That's so goddamn adorable, honestly!"

 

Oh, man, does Mako really, really want to do another hit, but he thinks that would be pointless since the mutated man can pretty much telegraph his swings now that he knows his methods.

 

"Why'd you save me?" he questions instead. "Could've just left me to die so you could pick off the scraps."

 

"You insinuating I can't hold my own?" asks Jamie, looking offended. "I may be lacking in the limb department," -- he demonstrates by waggling his stump of an arm and his peg leg -- "but I can be a right mean cunt, I can! You saw me take down Matty, yeah?"

 

The larger man tilts his head to the side as an indication that he has no idea who this Matty is.

 

Again, Jamie's quick to pick up Mako's body language, and makes a surprised expression. "Oh, right," he says. "Matty and I, we used to work in this store together - he was me supervisor. A real fuckin' prick even before he was changed. Refused to cut off me arm after I got bit, even with all my begging and pleading. Wanker left to go off on his own, said I was a danger to him. Fat load of help that did him, the fuckin' idiot. So, I cut off my arm all by me onesie. Not a fun or easy time, I can tell you that for free." For a moment, he looks to Mako for a reaction.

 

Mako contemplates giving him one, shocked and appalled at the prospect of being left alone and then removing your own arm, but he remains silent. He's got no real reason to entertain this clown.

 

"Still haven't answered my question," he grunts instead.

 

The zombie scratches a bald patch on his head, looking a little sheepish, and answers, "Well…truth be told, I figured you'd help get me out of here. I'm sick of this fucking hell hole."

 

Mako snorts.

 

"Don't know where the front doors are to your own work place?"

 

"N-no! Not here, you cheeky cunt" Jamie says with a little stamp of his clawed foot, his bone tail sticking straight up. Mako swears the zombie's cheeks grow a darker shade, like he was blushing. "I mean the damn city! There's nothing left here, and I wanna get out, find somewhere else that was like the way it was before any of this shit happened! Pretend like it never did!"

 

"You're undead," says Mako in an uncaring and curt tone. "There's no going back for you."

 

He obviously strikes a very, very bad chord, because he watches the pupils of those burning orange eyes turn into slits, and Jamie's mouth curls into a snarl. Before he can even react to guard himself, Jamie has grabbed Mako by his throat, and effortlessly lifts him off the ground like he weighs nothing, despite his over 400 pounds of weight. He can feel blood being drawn from the claws puncturing his skin as the hand squeezes.

 

"You don't think I fucking know that?!" the zombie growls as he glares angrily at the survivor. "You think I fucking wanted this?!" Then, as fast as it had started, something suddenly clicks within the recesses of Jamie's mind, his pupils dilate, and he drops Mako -- who gasps for much needed air -- to the ground, and backs himself up against the wall. Realizing what he had just done, he looks terrified now as he's staring at the blood coating his nails, tail tucked between his legs. "I-I know I ain't right," he says shakily, "but I'm n-not a fucking killer! I'm not! I promise! P-please, Mako! Just give me a chance! Please, you gotta help me!"

 

Mako is shaken up for the second time today, and it's not even noon yet.

 

As he stares at the undead man who's on the verge of crying, he can't help but feel apathetic towards his ordeal. Jamie isn't a living human, but he isn't completely a zombie either. He's seen him laugh, listened to his teasing, watched him get embarrassed, and, of course, saw him completely lose it, all within the span of a few minutes -- everything a mindless undead could never do.

 

He begins to heavily consider Jamie's plea. It's obvious that doing things on his own has worked out well for Mako so far. Even before the metaphorical shit hit the proverbial fan, he had always preferred the company of no one else but himself. It was easier that way, not having to fuss over taking care of another living being, ensuring their safety and security.

 

However, the pace of progress being made towards getting out of the city over the past several months has proven lackluster. If he had to be completely honest with himself, having someone else there to help clear out hordes or find alternative paths would be infinitely better, especially if that someone could lift a 400 pound man like he was a bag of feathers, and tear up anything with their own hands…or, well, hand, singular.

 

There's a beat of silence before Jamie speaks up again.

 

"…S-sorry," he mumbles softly as he rubs a thumb across his gaunt cheek to wipe something wet away. "Didn't mean to put you on the spot there, mate. Sorry you had to see me like…that…Forget what I said. You don't owe me nothing. I'll show you the way out, and we don't have to see each other again. You can--"

 

"Alright."

 

Orange eyes wet from tears are looking right at Mako. They're brimming with hope and desperation now.

 

"…Wh-what? Alright, what?" Jamie asks.

 

"I'll get you out of the city," Mako clarifies. Jamie's jaw nearly drops.

 

"Y-you serious? You ain't fucking with me, are you?"

 

Mako shakes his head. "Not fucking with you. Could use some help getting out myself." Jamie is beginning to vibrate now, his eyes growing wider, and then he starts to cackle with pure, unadulterated joy. "There's conditions," the survivor continues, which makes Jamie cease his laughter and listen intently. "First off, don't fucking touch me unless I give you explicit permission to."

 

"Gotchya. I can do that."

 

"Second, you do not leave my sight at any time, unless I tell you to scout ahead."

 

"Sure, sure."

 

"Third, I will save you once, and only once. After that, we're even, and I owe you nothing else after that."

 

"I, uh…I…suppose that's fair, yeah…Anything else?"

 

Mako walks up to Jamie, looms over him, and places an index finger against the blonde's forehead, giving himself goosebumps from how cold Jamie is to the touch.

 

"You so much as threaten me like that again, and I will personally put a bullet right through here, and end your life then and there. Understand?"

 

To his surprise, instead of showing fear from Mako's threat, Jamie's expression hardens.

 

"In that case," he says with a low, serious voice, "I think it's only fair to say that if I feel like you're going to kill me, I have every right to defend myself…If you catch my drift…"

 

Mako does, and gives a snort of affirmation. For a brief moment, he catches himself thinking that Jamie's response was fairly attractive, and immediately shoves that thought deep, deep down into his subconscious from whence it came. He then lifts his finger off Jamie's head, and extends his hand out.

 

"Guess we have ourselves a deal."

 

That friendly face-splitting smile returns as Jamie's expression.

 

"You betchya!"

 

Jamie hacks up spit into his palm, and shoves it right into Mako's hand before the survivor can do anything to stop him. Whatever face he's making as a reaction to the filthy gesture is enough to send Jamie back into hysterics.

 

God, he hopes this wasn't a fucking mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie wow wow WOW, I am legitimately floored by the overwhelming positive response this has received over the past 24 hours!! Everyone's comments, kudos, bookmarks, etc. mean SO much to me, especially since this is my first ever publication to AO3, and my first fic in like YEARS.
> 
> As a big ol' 'Thank You' for such an amazing kick-off, I figured I'd treat you all to a second chapter!
> 
> In regards to a schedule for future chapters, I literally don't have one at this point in time, so things may be a bit sporadic until I can get something steady going :'0
> 
> Of couse, please feel free to contact me on Tumblr @TheChugAndSqueeze if you've got any questions, comments, so on and so forth!
> 
> Thank you all once again! :'33


	3. Tired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ironic enough that the person Mako's allowed himself to travel with isn't entirely human.
> 
> Then again, those orange eyes say otherwise…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't stress enough how absolutely overjoyed I am with the comments and kudos I've been getting since publishing this bad boy - you guys are absolutely incredible! ;w;
> 
> I also want to thank you all for kindly pointing out any errors you find -- admittedly, I have been typing this all out on the spot and submitting it same day without anyone else proofreading it kjabfkaf whOOPS
> 
> Schedule-wise, I think every Wednesday and/or Thursday for chapter uploads are my best bet, since those are the lightest days of the week for me!
> 
> Thank you all again so much!!! <33333333333333

_But look at all the stars_   
_We've come so far_   
_Even if we don't know where we are_   
_It's gotta be some where great_   
_Or am I just too tired to wink_

 

 

 

Both the survivor and the sentient zombie manage to make their way out of the supercenter with hardly any incident. There was no sign of Matty while the two relocated Mako's stash ("Dick head probably ran off to get some proper food," Jamie had noted), so his supplies were retrieved without incident. At Jamie's request (well, it was more akin to begging and pleading), the shopping cart was brought along with them.

 

Now, the two freshly acquainted outcasts make their way through the corpse and debris littered streets, careful with their strolling so as not to rile up any of the zombies. The squeaking and clattering of the grocery cart that Jamie is pushing is thankfully not enough to cause a disturbance. Meanwhile, Mako keeps a weather eye out for any suspicious movement, swinging his baseball bat covered in barbed wire lazily to-and-fro at his side as he leads the charge ahead of Jamie.

 

"So, where's it we're heading to?" the blonde zombie asks as he drums his claws over the plastic handle of the cart.

 

"Goal's to get to the exit to the westbound highway," Mako replies as he turns his head from left to right, surveying the general area. Jamie nods.

 

"Right, yeah, that makes sense…Er…Where's that at, exactly?"

 

The survivor looks behind his shoulder. "How long have you lived here?"

 

"All 25 years of me life."

 

"And you have no idea where the highway is?"

 

"'Course I do!" Jamie insists, his cheeks slowly growing that bizarre shade of dark purple. "It's right next to that abandoned gas station, right?"

 

"Jamison, every gas station is abandoned now."

 

"Ugh, y'know! The one 'cross the two story Maccas with the huge play place?"

 

Mako lets out a snort. "Huh…You're not wrong…" This makes Jamie's expression brighten up a bit.

 

"See! I know what I'm talking about! Was always better at remembering landmarks and shit. Anyways, where is that from here?"

 

Mako lifts his bat to point to his right. "'Bout twenty-five miles that way."

 

The cart comes to a stop, as does Jamie.

 

"…Sorry, mate," he says as he rubs an ear with his good hand. "Care to repeat that? Swore I heard you say 'twenty-five miles'…"

 

"You heard right," replies Mako as he continues his pace of walking. He could hear the zombie start to sputter out noises of frustration from behind him.

 

"But…but that's so far away!" Jamie whines. "Ain't there some other way out?!"

 

"You're the one who decided to follow me."

 

"Yeah, and…?"

 

Now it's Mako's turn to finally stop. He turns slowly to face his zombie companion. "You either shut the hell up and keep following me, or you leave and figure it out yourself."

 

He watches as Jamie opens his mouth in preparation to give Mako sass, then close it and turn it into a pouty frown.

 

"Welp, you're the only bloke who's willing to guide my sorry arse out of here," he mumbles as he starts pushing the cart again. "Would be proper fucking stupid if I went on me own…"

 

Mako lets out another signature grunt, says, "Good choice," and turns back to walk again, returning to his silent surveillance mode.

 

About a block ahead, the survivor can see that there's a rather hefty amount of zombies huddled in a circle in front of an outdoor parking lot, no doubt busily tearing apart the carcass of freshly captured prey. Luckily, their focus is on whoever was unfortunate enough to be their late afternoon lunch that Mako believes him and Jamison can safely skirt around the mindless group, and continues onwards and forwards without hesitation.

 

"Don't make any sudden movements," Mako warns Jamie as they approach closer. He notices, however, that Jamie isn't staring at him, but at the circle of zombies. He doesn't look frightened, but instead looks…Mako can't quite put a finger on it…disturbed and hesitant, yet interested? Like he was resisting some invisible force pulling him to join the group.

 

Mako realizes he has to pull him back.

 

"Jamison?" he calls out, loud and stern enough to catch his companion's attention, but soft enough so as not to alert the crowd of zombies just a few yards away. The orange eyes are now staring at him, and Jamie has the same animalistic expression he had while digging his claws into Mako's neck as he held him off the ground. Mako blinks, and the monstrous look on Jamie's face is gone, replaced instead with a goofy grin as he comically tip-toes past the group successfully with the cart, and makes his way to stand next to the survivor.

 

"Hooly dooly!" he snickers out, using the stump of his right arm to nudge Mako playfully. "That was a close one, eh? Glad I've got you around, big guy!" And with that, Jamie proceeds to take the lead, his pace just slightly faster than it was before.

 

Mako takes a moment to reflect upon what Jamie had just said.

 

Had he been thanked because they fortuitously made it past the miniature horde?

 

Or was it because he managed to distract Jamie from adhering to his more primal needs?

 

The survivor shakes his head, deciding that trying to find an answer is just wasting valuable time.

 

\----------------

 

When the sun starts to disappear behind the husks of skyscrapers, Mako takes the initiative to find somewhere to hunker down for the night. He ushers Jamie and himself into a dilapidated motel room, thankful that this one has a bed free of any viscera.

 

Just as he starts to imagine himself getting comfy under the covers, Jamie's all too quick to park the cart and dash towards the bed, throwing himself on it. The moaning sounds that the undead man makes as he buries his face into the pillows can only be described as sexual in nature. Mako can't help but feel embarrassed over how it was making him blush. Thank fucking god for the mask.

 

"Christ, I've missed this!" Jamie cries out as he flips himself over to his back, kicking his peg leg dramatically into the air. "Was getting real fucking sick of sleeping on a fucking dog bed. Oh, this is proper aces, mate! Well done!"

 

After Mako finishes barricading the door with a desk, he walks over to the bed and stands beside it, folding thick arms over his broad chest in an attempt to look intimidating.

 

"Bed's mine," he says with an enunciated snarl.

 

Jamie turns to look at Mako with dissatisfaction and asks, "Says who?"

 

"Says me."

 

"You ain't the boss!"

 

"Neither are you."  
  
"Don't care! Fuck off!"

 

"Get. Off. The. Bed."

 

"Make me, you prick!"

 

Mako gladly accepts Jamie's challenge, because he's tired and sore and he's absolutely done fucking around. Jamie may be fast, but he's not quick enough to get off before Mako picks up the baby blue comforter by all four corners and lifts it up with the undead idiot stuck inside. For a second, Mako considers just throwing the bundle across the room, but instead walks it to the bathroom and gently dumbs the squirming thing into the tub.

 

"Oi, no fair!" complains a muffled Jamie as he struggles to free himself from the tangled mess. Mako can't help but chuckle at the scene before him, seeing Jamie's patchy blonde hair sticking out of one end and a boney tail lashing erratically from the other while the lump inside wriggled desperately. Finally, Jamie manages to poke out his head, and he looks positively adorable with that now familiar pouty expression.

 

"Keep the blanket," Mako says as he turns to walk out. "Too hot to sleep with one."

 

"Oh, well, aren't you a fuckin' saint!" Jamie grumbles as he tries to adjust his lanky body in the tub. "If you're feeling extra generous, you cheeky cunt, it'd be awful nice to also have a pil--" The zombie is immediately silenced when Mako chucks a pillow directly into his face.

 

The survivor exhales heavily as he sinks himself into the bed, which creaks under his tremendous weight. Laying his head down, he tells himself that he deserves this.

 

The day started off shitty, but there was no way he was going to end it that way. This has been a mantra he'd been following well before the outbreak, something he learned from his late mother, and it's what has been keeping him going for this long.

 

"Think of three good things that's happened to you today before you close your eyes," she'd tell him.

 

Well, the first "good thing" is getting a proper bed to sleep on instead of the sleeping bag that's obviously way too small for him. He'll have to find a bigger one at some point.

 

Coming up with a second "good thing" is a bit more difficult, but Mako considers the decent haul of food and supplies he managed to get from his trip to the supermarket, and settles with that. Finding the cheese crackers and the apple juice was a tremendous bonus.

 

As for the third "good thing"…Well, nothing is immediately coming to mind. In fact, Mako starts to think there was no other "good things" that happened to him today. If anything, nearly losing his life practically nullifies anything "good" about today.

 

…But…He didn't lose his life.

 

Here he was, laying comfortably on a genuine bed, able to continue thinking and breathing and moving closer towards getting out of the city.

 

The one he had to thank for this all being possible is currently moping in the bathroom, curled up under a comforter at the bottom of a tub.

 

Mako thinks about how wild and absolutely impossible it is that a zombie -- a special mutated one at that -- is responsible for saving him from an end he truly feared. Now, it's -- Jamie's following Mako around, placing all faith in him to help escort him towards freedom. It's been so long since Mako had any company, much longer than the three months of surviving. He just never found anyone willing to put up with his less than personable attitude. Then again, he only had himself to blame for actively avoiding long-term contact with another human being.

 

Ironic enough that the person he's allowed himself to travel with isn't entirely human.

 

Then again, those orange eyes say otherwise…

 

\----------

 

Mako's stirred awake when he feels something warm be placed over his enormous frame. Grasping at it in the dark with his hands, he realizes it's the comforter. He can see through his mask's lenses a very tall, hunched over figure in the dark making its way around the bed. His fight-or-flight instincts are screaming at him to kill whatever it is, but his rationale reminds him exactly who that figure belongs to, and that he has no reason to kill it.

 

At least, until he feels the figure crawl up on to the bed by his feet, curling in on itself like it was some fucking bizzaro nightmare cat.

 

…Naw, Mako's way too tired to deal with Jamison right now.

 

He'd kick the idiot's ass in the morning.


	4. Hungry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thread has snapped.
> 
> The illusion is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMAO FUCKIN WHOOPS
> 
> **EXTREME WARNING FOR EMETOPHOBIA THIS CHAPTER**  
> **will be adding an official fic tag for this!!**

_Now come one, come all, to this tragic affair_  
_Wipe off that makeup - What's "in" is despair_  
_So throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot_  
_You might wake up and notice you're someone you're not_

 

 

The first thing Mako realizes as he slowly stirs to consciousness is that he's very much still alive, and has managed to survive yet another evening in whatever circle of hell his life had been thrust into three months prior. Nothing to celebrate, necessarily - just means another day to keep moving.

 

The second thing he realizes is just how truly fucking sore the events from the day prior has left him. Lifting an arm to scratch his side is enough to make him let out a muffled moan in discomfort from beneath his mask.

 

The middle aged survivor makes his third and final discovery of the morning when he attempts to uncurl his legs, stretching them straight, and manages to knock something particularly heavy off the side of the bed, which lands on the tacky looking beige carpet with THUMP.

 

Suddenly, the silence is shattered with the sound of very bizarre chittering, likened to that of a very upset animal, and Mako instinctively fumbles to reach for the nail gun sitting on the desk next to him. Shit, how'd they get in? He was so sure he barricaded the door. Was there a slot in the window he missed? Maybe a hole in the wall? Or--

 

"Fuck! Christ! Don't shoot, Mako! Don't shoot!"

 

Mako freezes at the sound of his name being mentioned, seeing that he's got his makeshift weapon pointed directly between a set of familiar blazing amber eyes that are now filled with genuine fear. The being the eyes belonged to has his one good hand held out defensively as he curls himself up against a desk chair, his boney tail tightly coiled around one of the wooden legs. The nail gun is quickly lowered back onto the desk, and the survivor lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he rubs a palm over his forehead.

 

"Scared the bejesus out of me, Jamison," he grumbles as he leans his head back against the headboard in relief.

 

"M-Me?!" the special infected stutters as he loosens his vice grip on the chair, his blonde caterpillar eyebrows furrowed. "You're the bastard that was pointing a gun at me!"

 

"Thought you were one of the undead."

 

Jamie can't help but let out a snort as he cautiously stands himself up. "Yeah, well, _technically_ , you ain't wrong."

 

"...I mean--"

 

The special undead waves his half-arm at Mako. "Naw, naw, I know what you mean, mate. Helluva way to wake up, though, eh? Would'a preferred an alarm, honestly. Used to have a proper annoyin' one, I did. Had to, if I wanted to get me arse up and ready for me mornin' classes, y'know? Well, _maybe_ you do...Did they have alarms in the 1920's?"

 

Hmph. Little shitter. Mako doesn't give Jamie the pleasure of acknowledging his snide remark, and instead stirs himself out from beneath the comfortable bedsheets, swinging his legs to hang off the opposite side of where the undead asshole stood. As much as he wants to stay curled up in the safety of the one and only good bed he's managed to find after so long, there's work to be done.

 

Groaning, the survivor stands to his full height, and proceeds to pull his tanktop, filthed up with sweat, blood, and guts, up and over his head, then folding it up into a ball and tossing it into a garbage bin beside him. He takes a moment to hold his arms back up over his head, stretching up towards the ceiling in an effort to really work out the soreness, then bends over to touch the tips of his toes, which he does with ease, despite his impressive girth. Then he twists himself to one side, facing back towards the bed, one arm pulled behind his head, and holds his position for a few seconds. Mako lowers his one arm and raises the other behind his head, and twists into the other direction.

 

He finds himself staring at Jamison, who has his mouth unflatteringly agape, orange eyes wide in awe, gaunt cheeks now a deep violet, elongated ears slightly twitching, bone tail practically wagging in what could be discerned as pure delight.

 

Oh.

 

Hmm.

 

Right.

 

 

"...I'm gonna go take a massive shit," Mako quickly announces as he turns away and walks to the bathroom at a brisk pace.

 

"Y-yeah!! Y-you do that, mate!" Jamie nervously chuckles. "Ju-just gonna...uh...um...gonna probably do me own stretches!! Gotta, uh...gotta get these ol' bones in tip top shape!! Gotta be in prime condition if we're gonna--"

 

Suddenly, Mako stops when he hears the sound of a stomach gurgling in protest.

 

When he determines it isn't his, his blood immediately goes cold.

 

"...Oh, shit..." Jamie's voice is suddenly quieter and much more timid. "...M-mate, you mind if I, uh...If I borrow from your snack stash?"

 

Mako doesn't even turn to look at him. "...Can you eat normal food?" he asks, his voice also lowered now. What was once an awkward and - dare Mako admit - endearing moment is now suddenly incredibly tense, the air thicker than it was moments ago.

 

There's a moment before Jamie finally answers. "S-Sure I can! I can eat any ol' thing, y'know? I ain't picky! Can't afford to be now a days, right?"

 

_Have you eaten another person?_

 

It's the question that's on the very tip of Mako's tongue, but he can't bring himself to ask it. It feels as though once he does, it will snap whatever flimsy string that holds together the illusion of Jamison's humanity.

 

He's been able to look past what the mysterious and deadly virus had done to mutilate the young man's body, forming it into something he'd been conditioned to fear on sight. Jamie has cracked wise jokes, sassed him, has laughed and smiled, just as any normal human would do. His ability to express his emotions is what differentiates him from the rest of the lifeless horde.

 

The thought of him ripping the innards out of another human being, hungrily feasting upon it without any thought...

 

...He suddenly remembers the way Jamison was staring at the body that they passed the day before, and goosebumps begin to quickly blister all over Mako's skin.

 

"...Mako? Mate? Kinda need an answer?"

 

"...Y-yeah. Yeah. Go ahead," Mako finally answers. "Just...don't eat it all, alright?"

 

"Right, yeah, of course! Wouldn't wanna do that to you!" He hears Jamie walk over to the grocery cart, shift through the duffle bag, and pull out a sleeve of cheese crackers and a juice box. "Cheers!"

 

With that, the survivor shuts himself behind the bathroom door.

 

\---

 

Jamison solemnly looks at the crackers and juice box he's holding in his clawed hand, which he allows to shake with weakness now that his new partner is out of sight. The pain wracking his stomach is near unbearable at this point, and he has to sit himself down on the bed before he falls over. He attempts to regulate his breathing, hoping that it'll at least help a little.

 

God, it's never been this bad. He's managed to fight off the instinct for this long. He thought it wouldn't be such a huge deal. It's been 2 months since...well, since he'd _changed_. The fact that he retained his mental capacity to think for himself, as opposed to losing it over the virus, made him think he wouldn't be like the others. He wouldn't allow himself to be like them.

 

He was Jamison Fawkes - 26 year old college graduate, former supermarket employee who was just trying to save up enough cash to move out of the country, to travel around the world, just like he'd always wanted.

 

Like hell he was going to add "mindless bloodthirsty cannibal" to his personality traits.

 

Last time he tried to eat normal food, though...

 

Jamie shakes his head. Maybe he was just feeling off that day. Maybe if he tried again...

 

He shakily starts to tear off the packaging of the crackers, and slowly brings one up to his mouth.

 

He's normal. He's completely normal. He's still human.

 

He is _human_.

 

Jamison takes a single bite.

 

\---

 

Mako sighs with relief as he finishes washing his face with the cold, grimy faucet water, and starts to pull his mask back on.

 

Suddenly, the entire hotel room is filled with the horrible sound of violent retching.

 

The survivor throws the bathroom door open, and sees Jamison's shaking body hunched over the garbage bin in the corner across the room, thick, dark bile seeping out from his mouth. The blonde turns to face Mako, and he looks as if death was ready to take him for a second time.

 

"M-Mako..." Jamie moans before lurching and vomiting profusely into the waste basket.

  
"What the fuck happened?!" Mako asks. He starts to walk over towards where Jamie is, but Jamie's head suddenly snaps towards his direction, vomit stained teeth bared, the pupils of his orange eyes now slits, a guttural snarl emits from deep within his chest. Then, the animalistic look quickly disappears, replaced with a pleading and hurt look, tears starting to well.

 

"Hungry...I'm...s-so h-hungry..."

 

"But...The crackers?"

 

"N-no...I...c-can't...I can't..."

 

Jamie, unable to hold himself anymore, falls limp to the ground, his entire body convulsing, and he begins to stutter through tears.

 

"...I-I need...I n-need it, M-Mako...I can't...I'm g-going t-to st-starve...I'm s-sorry...I c-can't...I can't..."

 

Mako doesn't need an explanation as to what 'it' is.

 

As he stands there across from the rail thin undead writhing on the floor, he understands clearly what needs to happen in order to ensure Jamie's survival.

 

The thread has snapped.

 

The illusion is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god kjbsfkjafs sorry guys it took me this fuckin long to finally post an update kjbfakjf
> 
> I'm gonna really, really try to be more stringent on updating this fic because I really, really do care about it, and I'm having a lot of fun with it, and I'm very excited with where it's gonna go!!
> 
> I can't thank you all enough for the kudos and comments and subscriptions that I've gotten between the last update and now!!! It really means a lot that you have put so much faith and trust into me and this goofy ass self indulgent fic hhhhhhhhh
> 
> And again thank you so, so much for reading!! :'33


	5. Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The answer should be easy for Mako to make, and yet...
> 
> God, fuck, why is he hesitating?

_I know it's mad, but if I go to hell,_   
_Will you come with me, or just leave?_   
_I know it's mad, but if the world were ending,_   
_Would you kiss me, or just leave me?_   
_Just leave me?_

 

 

Loneliness isn't just vital - it's a necessity to have during these apocalyptic times.

 

Assisting others is only a waste of precious energy, time, and resources needed to keep walking for just another day. All the help and effort could end up being for naught within the blink of an eye. This was something Mako came to learn very quickly after the viral epidemic tore civilization asunder. He can still very vividly remember watching the single mother he had given food to about a week after the outbreak tearing and ripping out her child's stomach, feasting on the entrails, noticing the relatively fresh bite mark she had received on her shoulder. Since that moment, Mako made a vow to never reach out again.

 

And then fucking Jamison came bumbling in and saved his life. Jamie - the first and only person that has gone and stuck his neck out for him, and he turns out to be the first and only undead that has, miraculously, been able to maintain his humanity. A rule breaker in every sense.

 

Mako knew there were going to be severe consequences for breaking his own rules as soon as he agreed to let the blonde freakazoid join him on his quest to get the hell out of the city. What sort of fucking lunatic allowed a creature like Jamie to just casually stroll along without even knowing for sure if he even needed to still eat human flesh? There was absolutely no certainty that the last small and fragile thread of humanity left in Jamie wouldn't just snap one day, and the animal inside of him would finally be released and unrestricted.

 

But he was desperate, and as far as Mako was concerned, Jamison was merely another tool to be used in his effort to keep breathing for just one more day. How could he say no to the literal superhuman powers Jamie possessed? The ability to see in the dark? The skill to climb impossible heights to get a better view of the city? The uncanny strength and dexterity to clear a path through a hoard? All of this, Jamison was willing to provide to Mako, so long as he assisted in helping him find a way out. It was an incredibly rare and unique opportunity Mako knew he could not pass up. The repercussions of his decision would be dealt with when they came.

 

Now, here he is, standing over Jamie, a starving infected - the most dangerous thing in the world.

 

Jamison is fluctuating between ravenous growls and pained sobs, clawing his stomach with his only good hand, cartilage tail tucked between his thighs.

 

"M-Ma-k-ko..." he chokes out through clenched teeth before burying his head into the floor and letting out a muffled shriek, body convulsing.

 

There are two options Mako knows he has to take, and he knows he has to make the decision fast.

 

Option A is to end it right here, right now, by shooting a nail right into Jamie's skull. It would be a swift death for Jamie, and, honestly, a more merciful one, to put him out of his miserable and unfortunate existence.

 

Option B is to run. He could barricade Jamie inside the room, keep him away from the rest of the world, to let him suffer, while he could run away and never, ever look back.

 

The answer should be easy for Mako to make, and yet...

 

God, fuck, why is he hesitating?

 

Is it because he knows he'll be losing a significant and vital part of his plan? Without Jamie, he'd be back to square one on lumbering through the city at a sluggish pace.

 

Or is it because, for the first time in a very, very long time, Mako has someone to talk to? Someone to share this experience with?

 

Mako remembers how Jamie didn't hesitate to take on the other special infected himself, despite being weaker than it was. He remembers how energetic and enthusiastic he was after agreeing to help him get out. He remembers seeing him blushing like a fucking idiot after catching him staring.

 

Mako remembers making a promise to Jamie that he will save him once.

 

Only once.

 

"...W-won't...h-hurt you..."

 

The infected's weak voice brings the survivor's attention back to the matter at hand. Glowing, bright orange eyes are looking at him, tears still leaking from them down his gaunt face.

 

"I s-swear to y-you, I w-won't t-t-touch you," Jamie mumbles. "J-just plea-please...help m-me..."

 

As Mako stares into those vibrant eyes, he comes to his decision.

 

Fuck the consequences.

 

He gets to work with gingerly removing the comforter off the bed, reaching out and grabbing a corner of the thick blanket from where he stood. He's worried about making any sudden movements that would undoubtedly trigger a fight or flight response in Jamie, despite all the efforts he's making in suppressing the animal inside of him. Then, he very carefully kneels down next to the shaking man on the floor, holding the comforter in front of him. There's a moment where Jamie snaps his teeth at him, but quickly recoils in horror, shutting his eyes and digging his forehead into the floor, mumbling over and over, "Won't hurt you...Won't hurt you...Won't hurt you..."

 

Mako, in his softest voice he can manage, says, "I trust you, Jamie...And I need you to trust me. Okay?"

 

There's a beat, and Jamie weakly nods his head with approval into the carpet beneath his face.

 

With that, Mako drapes the comforter around Jamie.

 

"I'm going to pick you up and put you in the cart. Keep yourself wrapped up until I tell you to take it off. Can you do that?"

 

Another weak nod.

 

Mako carefully moves to tuck his palms underneath Jamie, and he feels the undead tense as soon as thick fingers curl around him. Gently, the survivor lifts, and effortlessly picks Jamie up off the ground. He holds him out a safe distance from his chest, extending his arms at full length, walks over to the cart, and gradually deposits the body into it. Jamie clutches the comforter and wraps it tighter around him while continuing to chant, "Won't hurt you, won't hurt you, won't hurt you."

 

The survivor rounds up everything else in the room, including the nail gun, back into his duffel bag, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He peeks outside the boarded up windows, sighing internally with relief that there was no hoard waiting for them outside. Mako opens the door, and pulls the cart out along with him.

 

"You're doing really good," he says. "Just hang in there."

 

Whether it's a statement meant for Jamie or for himself, he's not entirely sure.

 

Either way, he retraces his steps from the day before, all the way back to where they had passed the smaller group of infected surrounding the body. Mako prays that the body's still there, and that there's at least something salvageable and, more importantly, edible left.

 

There's a few very close encounters where Mako nearly brushes with shambling undead on his way to his destination, but Jamie only has to let out a warning growl, and they, oddly enough, back off, perhaps recognizing him as more dominant. Weird, but incredibly helpful.

 

Sure enough, the body's still there, but most of its lower abdomen has been ravaged and picked clean. Mako starts to think that this trip is a bust, but he notices Jamie move from the corner of his eye, turning to see the special undead leaning his head over the edge of the cart.

 

"The head...It still has its head..." he says, his voice a mixture of enthusiasm and craving.

 

"Will it be enough?" Mako asks.

 

"Plenty..." Jamie looks towards Mako, orange eyes glowing beneath the shadow of the blanket. "...Can I...?" He trailed off, unable to finish his question.

 

He didn't need to. Mako understood.

 

"Yeah. You're allowed."

 

Immediately, as if a switch was flipped, Jamie throws the comforter off of himself and pounces effortlessly from the cart on to the concrete pavement, and slinks on hunched legs and his one arm towards the body. Like some sort of sick, mutated rat, Mako muses.

 

He continues to watch Jamie as the infected clutches the head within his clawed left hand, lift it up a few several inches, then slam it back on to the ground with a sickening CRUNCH. The skull shatters open, and the contents within begin to ooze out, but not before Jamie lifts the head back up, angling it just right, and then unhinging his jaw and biting down.

 

Mako has seen this exact scene numerous times with other special infected. Watching Jamie do this, though, felt wildly different. He can only stand there and watch with morbid fascination while his companion sucks some poor unfortunate soul's head dry.

 

A thought crosses the survivor's mind, and he can't help but chuckle.

 

Guess he's going to need to pack their snacks separately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE NERDS
> 
> been trying to churn this chapter out for a while, and finally found time and energy to do so!!
> 
> kinda iffy on how I wrapped this chapter up, but, eh, it'll do lmao
> 
> thank you all again so, so much for the support!! i've gotten some absolutely incredible fanart for LMD, and i adore each and every one of them, on top of the comments and kudos and bookmarks and subs i get!!! you all are so sweet and awesome and i just aaahhhh thank you all so much!! ;w;


	6. Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He remembers wailing in agony all through that night, alone, with not a single person to comfort him, to tell him things were going to be ok. That he was going to be ok.
> 
> Then came Mako.

_Take all your chances while you can_  
_Never know when they'll pass you by_  
_Like a sum a mathematician cannot solve_  
_Like me trying my hardest to explain_

 

 

Food. Hungry. Eat.

 

These thoughts were once quiet to Jamison, muffled, easily able to shove back into the void.

 

As time went on, though, the thoughts grew louder, more pronounced, harder to control, especially whenever he caught glimpses of those with still beating hearts pass by the store.

 

He fucking hated it. He loathed the fact that he allowed himself to entertain these thoughts, consider acting seriously upon them.

 

That wasn't him. That would never be him.

 

But when the hunger pains got worse, he knew he had to do something.

 

He can still recall his attempts to eat the stashed dry food and liquids Matty and him had kept, and how each and every one of them made him throw it all back up; the cereal, the soda, the potato chips, even fucking water was all poison to his body now.

 

He remembers wailing in agony all through that night, alone, with not a single person to comfort him, to tell him things were going to be ok. That he was going to be ok.

 

Then came Mako.

 

The thoughts were scratching and clawing and gnawing at his consciousness the moment he looked at the survivor.

 

Meaty. Fat. Hungry. Eat. Eat. Eat. Eat.

 

All those thoughts were immediately suppressed by one single thought, a single word that meant more to him than anything in this hellish world, a word he hadn't thought of in a long time.

 

Companion.

 

He didn't want to be alone anymore. He didn't want to be left with the viral monster that was trying desperately to take control over his mind and body, to bury him in the void. He needed this man with the still beating heart to help remind him that he, too, is still human, still alive, just like him.

 

Saving Mako wasn't necessarily planned, but it did help tremendously in trying to convince the man to join him, to help lead him away from the death and decay.

 

Jamie could have probably tried to travel out of the city himself - he'd thought about it, but always decided against it. It wasn't so much that he didn't think he could handle getting out of the city - he knew he could easily do it, what with his newfound abilities that came with the mutation. It was more so the fact that, if he did manage to make it out, he didn't want to celebrate his victory alone. He wanted someone to be there to share the achievement with, to ask, "What do we do now?"

 

Mako was absolutely the perfect type of guy he imagined himself sharing that moment with, along with all the other kinds if moments along the way. He could envision the two of them raising even more hell through the streets, plowing through hordes like it was a game, scavenging and adventuring through derelict buildings and areas that were once off limits to people like them, causing all kinds of mischief and chaos.

 

There was also the idea of spending time with such a gorgeous piece of man meat that really excited Jamison. Call him vein, but if he was going to enjoy the company of another man, it was sure as hell going to be with a man that suited his very specific tastes (he likes his men like he likes...liked?...his wine - the older the better).

 

Of course, while difficult to concede, Jamison understood that, given his "condition", any hope of his flirtatious advances being reciprocated and the chance of romance blossoming between them was nigh impossible.

 

Didn't mean that would stop him from trying.

 

Maybe there was still a chance for some sort of cure out there, beyond the city. He couldn't be that far gone, right?

 

At least, that's what he thought - he hoped he was for the past several months, until he took a bite of that stupid fucking cracker. It was like he swallowed battery acid, and his body reacted instantaneously, just like it had when he first got his cravings. Not as bad, though. No, this time, it was worse. Much, much worse. What made it worse, however, wasn't the fact that it felt like he was dying all over again. It wasn't that this made absolute the knowledge that any and all "human" food was now literally poison to him.

 

The absolute worst moment was when he saw Mako standing over him, and the rabid monster inside of him was screaming louder than ever before.

 

Kill him. Rip him open. Food. Kill. Eat him. Eat. Kill. Eat.

 

And, for the first time, he very nearly obeyed.

 

It was so easy to give in at that moment, because, Jesus fuck, it hurt so fucking much, and he was so fucking hungry. Eating Mako would last him months-- shit, probably even a whole year. He wouldn't have to go hungry again for a long, long time.

 

But then Jamie saw Mako's face…Mako's expression. An expression of fear, confusion.

 

He hated how Mako looked at him like that.

 

He wanted to see Mako's cheeky grin that showed off his slight underbite, wanted to see him wrinkle his thick nose over some nonsense, wanted to see his bushy white brows furrowed in concentration and determination.

 

Anything but how he was looking at him then, like…

 

…like a monster.

 

And so he fought. Jamie fought harder than he ever had to suppress the thoughts that were bombarding him, demanding of him to do the unspeakable to the one and only person he'd found companionship in this God forsaken city. The one and only man who showed him trust. The only man to treat him like he was still human.

 

The man Jamison was unequivocally, unabashedly in love with.

 

And he told Mako as much as his body seized up in pain. Told him that he would never, ever hurt him. That was a goddamn promise. And God, he had hoped Mako believed him. He knew he was placing so much trust in this man whom he only met literally yesterday, a man who was trained to kill creatures like him, but it was a chance.

 

If there's one thing Jamie's good at, it's taking chances.

 

This one was the biggest of all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And it paid off.

 

 

 

 

He remembers Mako so gently wrapping him up in the comforter and placed him in the grocery cart, pushing him out the door of the motel, out into the infested streets, and brought up to the body they had passed the other day. He remembers wanting so badly to wail out just from the overwhelming gratitude he had towards Mako for once again giving him another chance. He remembers the tears that threatened to fall as he feasted upon the brain he managed to obtain, so happy and thankful to be alive.

 

What he doesn't remember is when everything went dark. He had faded from consciousness, possibly his body's attempt to recover from the intense trauma it endured.

 

When Jamie awakes, he finds himself in a new place, laying in a different bed than the one he slept on the previous night. Drowsily, he notices that he's alone in the bed, draped in several different layers of blankets, his head resting on pillows of all shapes and sizes. The room he's in is a large bedroom that's in absolute disarray, with drawers missing, clothes and shoes haphazardly spread all over the floor, velvet red curtains torn from the window. The sun is just about to set, draping the room in reds and golds as the light reflects off of the skyscrapers nearby.

 

He sits up, and immediately panics when he doesn't feel his false leg attached to his knee, but it all dissipates when he sees his metallic peg leg sitting on the bedside table next to him. Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, the blonde mutated reaches over with his one good hand to grab it and begins to reattach it to its rightful place.

 

His next instinct is to look for Mako.

 

The covers are carefully but quickly peeled away, and Jamie plants his foot and peg leg firmly on the carpet. For a moment he wobbles, still feeling the after effects of retching up whatever remained of his stomach acid, but his boney tail helps him find his balance.

 

"Mako?" he calls out just barely above a whisper. His ears twitch as he attempts to hear for a response, but none is given. Instead, he begins to sniff the air, hoping to get Mako's scent. Sure enough, he catches it, wafting through the air like a ribbon, strong, distinct, and indominable.

 

Fresh cut grass after a morning rainfall.

 

The realization that Mako never left, that he's chosen to stick around makes Jamie's chest tight in a very good way. The mutated follows the scent out of the bedroom, down the narrow hallway, and into the open living room area.

 

There, laying on the elevated space beside the bay window, head resting on his leather jacket, painted in the colors of the sunset, is Mako, with his hands folded over his chest, which rises and lowers with each deep breath. Although the survivor's face is still covered over with his leather filtration mask, Jamie can tell the man is in a deep sleep, just as worn out from the day's events as he was, no doubt.

 

Jamie can't help but smile over just how gorgeous Mako looks in this moment, relaxed and at peace, the crimson blood stains on his tank top disappearing into the swirls of oranges and yellows of the reflected sun.

 

If anyone deserves rest, it's the big guy, and so Jamie decides to leave him be. Before he returns to the bedroom, though, Jamie catches sight of the little stuffed pig he remembers Mako taking from the supermarket poking out from the duffle bag in the shopping cart. He picks the little guy up and walks it over to Mako, placing it carefully on top of his chest.

 

"Guess we're even now, huh?" Jamie sighs. He's silent for a few more seconds before he starts talking again. "I meant what I said, y'know. Never gonna hurt you. Gonna keep you safe, I am. It's what I promised in the first place when we met, right? I'd be a right proper bastard if I broke that promise. Don't you worry. I'll make sure we both get outta this city. Together. You 'n me." A melancholy chuckle escapes from the mutated. "Sorry for ramblin', I'm just…Thanks…For givin' me a shot…Really, honestly, truly means a lot. More than you'll know…So…Thanks…"

 

With that, Jamie walks his way back to the bedroom, silently closing the door behind him.

 

A voice speaks softly from beneath a leather mask once the door shuts.

 

"You're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wuttup my name's matt and i never learned how to fuckin post on a regular schedule
> 
> Thank you to everyone, new readers and old, who've been sticking along for the ride! I'm happy to be able to post this chapter up after an unexpected hiatus! Hopefully the next chapter will come out on a much sooner basis. I think after this point, the ball's gonna start rolling a little bit faster towards the more meatier parts of the story, so I hope you all are still hungry for more!
> 
> Also, hey! Are you 18+ and wanna join a super hype Roadrat server with me and other great Roadrat writers and artists? The come on in and join us at our Discord server by following this link!  
> https://discord.gg/fyPS54p  
> **NOTE: ABSOLUTELY NO ONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 WILL BE ALLOWED!! NO EXCEPTIONS!! SORRY!!**
> 
> Also x2, my Tumblr username has changed!  
> You can find me now @FridayNightFisticuffs!
> 
> ALSO x3, I've got a Youtube playlist of all the songs referenced in each chapter, and will be updated as new chapters are posted!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QzCyF0lrioc&list=PL3c1TU-ijDc-HlIFgu8vJdFu_PkmZfdQe

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @FridayNightFisticuffs  
> Follow me on Twitter @J9Gaming!


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